


Two Times Shawn and Gus Held Hands (and one time they held hands secretly)

by Missy



Category: Psych
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Handholding, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn can be exasperating, but sometimes being in love with him is worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Times Shawn and Gus Held Hands (and one time they held hands secretly)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Cotton Candy_Bingo, prompt: Holding Hands Secretly.

“Dude,” came a whisper by Shawn’s ear, “where were these fingers?”.   
Shawn had to consider the query for a second as they strolled toward the frozen yogurt stand. “That’s a million dollar question. Did you mean last week or two minutes ago?”

“Shawn!” Gus hissed. “If I come away from this smelling like popcorn you’re going to pay for a fresh bottle of hand sanitizer.” 

“Aww, ease up, my little pumpkin muffin!” Shawn ordered them two pineapple yogurts, then crumpled his features into a moue of confusion. “The kind that smells like apple cider?”

“The kind that smells like hand sanitizer,” Gus replied haughtily. “They charge me double for anything I take from the stock, Shawn,” he continued. “Forty ounces every other week adds up!”

“I could lick them clean,” Shawn offered hopefully.

“No…”

“But I …”

“No. Shawn.”

Shawn pouted. “Gus, don’t be the Claire to my Alison!” 

It was too late for that. Gus glared at Shawn while he stuffed the cone of yogurt into his mouth.

*** 

Every couple in the history of the world has held hands in bed once, but Shawn has a specific routine. First he buries his face in Gus’ neck and lets out a long snorting sound. Then he kisses his way to Gus’ ear and tries to say good morning with a sleep-numbed tongue. That results in an odd sound, an almost squeaky noise that curls Gus’ toes in a bad, bad way. Shawn’s elbow would lodge itself into Gus’ solar plexus so firmly that Gus grew certain he was headed toward a bad case of appendicitis. Then their knees would knock together and a forearm would press his windpipe. The angles would be all wrong as they tried to wiggle into the right position.

Then Shawn’s fingers would brush his, and their nails would click like a spark flittering to life in the darkness. Their warm, smooth fingers would wrap around one another in the darkness, the tip of Shaw’s index finger hooking onto the edge of Gus’s pinkie. They would slide together into the night blue velvet of the evening, drifting away under the cover of sleep with only the knowledge that they loved each other lying between them.

*** 

They should have expected the widow to pull a gun on them (Gus would, after Lassiter burst in with guns ablazing to rescue them, suggest that Shawn’s psychic powers were on the blink. Shawn schmoozed his way through the problem – through every problem – and Gus would always find that fact exasperating). Gus squeaked like a wrecked accordion and Shawn’s jaw dropped. Each flung a single hand in the air, covering their eyes and ducking as the first bullet whizzed through the air.

Then Shawn slipped his hand into Gus’ beneath the table and gave him an openly hopeful, obvious look.

Gus’ expression had filled with horror, panic and embarrassment. But when he saw his lover’s trusting look, all of the worry just melted away.

Shawn could be a sweetheart sometimes.

That, Gus realized, as he felt a sticky thumb stroke his palm, was what kept Gus from strangling him.

**Author's Note:**

> The characters in this work of fiction are the property of USA/Paramount and various production houses. Infringement via monetary gain has not occurred.


End file.
